


Glasses

by rizcriz



Series: tumblr is dying time to get compiling [10]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kinda Crack, M/M, Tooth Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:16:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizcriz/pseuds/rizcriz
Summary: Eliot has a secret.





	Glasses

Eliot turns around, hand ruffling through his hair, only to stop midstep. Quentin’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, arms crossed with a smirk lit up across his face. Eliot huffs, lifting his chin high. “Not a word, Quentin,” He mutters, slipping past him to sneak down the hall to his bedroom.

Quentin, of course, follows after him. “You wear glasses,” He muses, and Eliot makes a mental note to curse him for the little jovial tone to his voice. “You’re a magician and you wear glasses.” 

“Temporarily,” Eliot mutters, shoving open his bedroom door, and casting it closed. Sighing, as he hears the soft thump of Quentin stopping it with his foot, and sneaking into the room behind him. 

“What happened?” 

“Fucking spell backfired,” Eliot mutters, moving to sit down on the bed and scoot up until he’s pressed up against the headboards. “Some asshole first year accidentally -  _I’ll show him accidentally, fucking prick_  - hit me with it. Knocked my vision out of wack until it wears off. And until then,” He waves a hand flippantly at his face. “Glasses.”

Quentin smiles, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed. “They look nice.” 

“Fuck off, Q. I’m really not in the mood to be patronized.” 

He shoves at his shoulder gently, lays down on the bed, and looks up at him, all shining eyes and smiling cheeks. “I’m not patronizing you,” He says, reaching up to poke at the side of the glasses, where it extends into Eliot’s hair. “You look hot.” 

“Quentin.” 

“Like,” He shrugs, smirking, “Sexy teacher hot? Or -  _oh_. I know,” He rolls over on his stomach, and lifts his weight up on his elbow. “ _Sexy artist hot_.” 

Eliot narrows his eyes, letting Quentin grab hold of his hands to play with his fingers. “Sexy artist hot?” 

“Mhm.” He smiles up at him through his eyelashes. “Definitely.” 

“And what would that make you?” Eliot asks, voice shifting a few octaves as he adjusts hims on the bed, until he’s lying on his side, eye level with Quentin. “Sexy gallery explorer?” 

Quentin shakes his head. “Package delivery?” 

Eliot laughs, loud and boisterous, pulling Quentin in for a kiss. “God, I love you,” He murmurs against his lips. They kiss for a moment, all tongue and desperate breaths, before he pulls away and whispers, “Now. Where’s my package?” 

 


End file.
